Spiral
by Mrs. Witter
Summary: She doesn’t know if they’re epic, if they’re even healthy but she knows she’s tired of pretending and lying honesty is not what it used to be.


**Disclaimer: **The characters of Veronica Mars or the show itself, does not belong to me. Yeah, I'm not Rob Thomas. Shocker.

**Pairing:** Veronica/Logan

**Rating:** R

**Spoilers:** Set anytime after episode 2x20 _Look Who's Stalking_, post Alterna-Prom.

**Author's Note:** This was written way back when and I decided to post it now…just cause.

**Spiral **

"Shut up," she says as he opens his mouth to say something, to break the moment with words. Disconcertion flashes across his face, vanishes, and he tries again. "God, Logan, just shut up."

This time, she cuts off his words with her mouth, pushes him back against the driver's seat. He doesn't try to speak now, instead he responds, kissing her back in earnest. Her body is twisted in the space between his chest and the steering wheel and she crawls over the console to straddle his lap. Automatically, he reaches down to push the seat backwards, his mouth still fastened hotly to hers. He moans against her as she fits perfectly against him.

He remembers her just like this, small and full of fire, on top of him, delicate and just…Veronica. His hands travel up and under her jacket and tank top, mapping the skin with his fingers like he has done countless times before.

_Too long ago_.

Veronica's hands seek him out, trace patterns on his flesh under his T-shirt, and fingernails scratch through skin in her attempt to hold on, to press against him, to get closer, closer, closer. Her mouth on his is a lightening bolt through his system, hot and open and taking, demanding, moving with his own. He follows while secretly spiraling out of control under her lead.

She doesn't know if they're epic, if they're even _healthy_ but she knows she's tired of pretending and lying; honesty is not what it used to be. Not for them. They've been playing make-believe, hiding behind the Lilly-shaped, Duncan-shaped holes in their universe and it makes her dizzy to think she's been avoiding feeling like this again, with him for so long.

_We'll never see each other again_.

Those six words scare her more than anything about the upcoming weeks in her lives – not seeing him again. History fades into nothingness when he's holding her like this, sure and strong and real underneath her fingertips.

Logan isn't thinking about anything, he's imprinting this moment to the other countless Veronica-memories in his mind. When she reaches for his belt buckle, he wants to tell her that this isn't how he wants it, not here in his car but the words are stuck in his throat and she's pulling the zipper down. He works clumsily to push her skirt up and pushes her underwear out of the way and she giggles breathlessly against his neck.

The foreplay, his performance, isn't stellar. He's impaired by alcohol, by trust, by the past and the responsibility the size of a boulder between his shoulder blades.

But when she wraps her arms around his neck, welcomes him as he arches into the heat of her and the sweetness of her surrender, he can almost imagine that this is beautiful for her. That they're not two jagged edged people, broken by those they desperately loved in the past. When she kisses the skin under his ear and trails her tongue across the sensitive spot, he moans her name and forgets his.

She's moving above him, her eyes trained on him and in the shadows he sees her cheeks are flushed pink and she's biting her bottom lip. She's breathing rapidly, her fingers are twisting in his hair and as clichéd as it is, her golden hair is like a halo above her head (and he knows she's no angel).

Mouth open and head thrown back against the seat, he presses fingertips to her waist and holds on. Blindly letting her lead, he matches her thrust for thrust, drives inside her wet heat, exhilarated and terrified in the same erratic heartbeat.

Exhilarated because the moment is as close to perfect as he ever imagined.

Terrified because Logan has learnt that when you hold onto things too tight, they only slip through your fingers.

**The End**


End file.
